Besties For The Resties
by janiedoe12
Summary: Edward and Bella are BFFs...but could they ever be more.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Gah. I hate this part," you whine, covering your eyes with your hand.

I turn my head to the side to look at you. "Why?"

Your hand flails over your head and your eyes shoot open. "Are you kidding me? Blair and _Dan_. That is just….uggghhhh," you say shivering in disgust.

"I'm so losing my man card over this," I lament, shaking my head as I shift to look at the ceiling. "But then again, I am laying here watching Gossip Girl with you so-"

"Shut your face. Gossip Girl is the greatest show of our time. I mean obviously we need to switch seasons so that we can cash in on some Blair and Chuck awesomeness-"

" _Obviously."_ I roll my eyes.

"….but there is nothing more therapeutic than my favorite devious upper east-siders on a day like today," you finish sadly.

"You're killing me. Tyler the giant douche was only your boyfriend for like 5 minutes. And you didn't even like him! You called me last week for tips on how to tactfully dump a guy on his birthday."

"That was last week. He had totally improved." You sigh all forlorn, like the world is ending, as you sit up and prop yourself up against my headboard.

I can't stand it. I have to rile you up again, distract you, pull you out of your doldrums. "Impossible, but we need to get back to the more important issue at hand….Blair and Dan. Why is that so terrible?"

You narrow your eyes at me. "I don't get how this isn't blatantly obvious to you. First off, Dan is a self-righteous hypocrite, but even if he wasn't….there's just no chemistry between them, like at all. Blair and Chuck are all passion, crazy love, which is as it should be." You trail off all wistful as if you're talking about you and Tyler and I can't take it. I mean, really?

I bang my head back against the mattress several times. "That's it."

I get up off the bed and reach my hand out to you. "Come on, we're getting you out of the house."

You frown. "Why? I want to stay here and wallow. I got dumped, Edward. Dumped."

I grab your hand and pull you off the bed. "Too bad. We're going out."

 **A/N:**

 **My best friend totally called me one night for tips on how to dump a guy on his birthday.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

We're a few drinks in and I can definitely tell you didn't eat lunch.

By the time I order you some nachos to get something on your stomach it's too late.

The bartender, Lauren, keeps giving me the side eye as you go on and on and on to her about your broken heart.

As absorbed as you are in your tale of woe, you somehow notice the looks we're exchanging, wildly misinterpret them, and whirl around on your barstool towards me the minute you think she's out of hearing.

She's not.

"Would you stop eye-fucking my bartender!?" You say much too loudly.

I look at you like you're nuts because you are, but you pay no attention and keep talking before I can get a word in edgewise.

"Sure, her boobs are huge and all," you say, gesturing to your own perfectly awesome rack like you're somehow lacking. "But she's soooo not your type….she's Kim K hot, like you know too-much-makeup-fake-tits-big-booty-porn-star hot….not the kind of girl you can take home to Esme, Edward."

Even though you're obviously on your way to being completely blackout and starting to slur your words, I'm not giving you a pass. Lauren moved on to another customer without comment, but she could come back this way any minute and I've got to stop your insane word vomit. "You're crazy. And after bending her ear for the last hour, you probably shouldn't be talking shit about _your_ bartender."

" _You're crazy_ ," you shoot back like a 10 year old. "And mean…..here I am, fresh off a terrible break up and you're over there trying to pick up the first tramp you see. Some best friend you are."

"I'm not trying to pick up anyone. And 'terrible breakup'? I think that's a bit of an oversell," I say, trying to get you worked up over my insensitivity so you'll get off the nice if a little slutty looking bartender's case.

It works, but not quite how I expect.

You get all sad…..like you're a balloon and I've deflated you. "You're right."

"I am?" I ask, shocked that you've agreed with me because it so rarely happens.

"I'm hopeless. I can't even keep a guy like Tyler interested for very long. I'm destined to live alone with a bunch of cats," you say glumly as you play with the tiny straw in your drink. "Weird Aunt Bella and her cats."

I start to feel sorry for you, but think better of it and sigh like what you said is pretty spot on because I refuse to kow tow to your use of ridiculously unoriginal clichés. "You're probably right…though I think you should really consider some of those sugar bear things that they sell at mall kiosks or maybe a sloth, you know so you can at least be an interesting weirdo."

"I can't believe you're making fun of my pain," you lament, laying your head on the bar.

I keep going like you haven't said a word. "It might seem like an extravagance, but I also think a cheese of the month club is a must."

"Ed-ward!" Your head is still on the bar, but you've turned it to the side and I see a hint of a smile on your lips.

"What? Look, you don't have to do the _Harry & David_ one, it _is_ a little pricey….but you can't be a weird animal hoarder aunt without cheese. It's just….it's just not done."

You finally pick up your head…..a little too quickly in your state, glassy-eyed and giggling lightly despite yourself. For a split second I'm proud of myself for breaking up your pity party, but before I can enjoy my triumph, you get quiet and I see the look I know all too well….the look that says I've got to get us out of here fast before vomitus Bella makes an appearance...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

I wake up the next morning with the headache I deserve…..I should've known better than to let you choose our drinks last night.

Long Island Ice Teas are no one's friend.

And to top it off, I've got an early meeting at work.

Before I leave, I take pity on you and fix your morning coffee and bagel and sit it on your bedside table.

I only had a slight buzz last night and I feel bad, so you're going to feel 10 times worse.

.

.

When I arrive to meet you at our favorite coffee shop after work, you're reclined in an overstuffed armchair, your usual cream with a splash of coffee in hand as you read one of those free newspapers they always have sitting around.

I look over your shoulder and snort-laugh at the title of the article you're reading.

" _Woman Accused of Shooting Up Meth and Riding on Scooter Through Walmart While Eating Chicken and Drinking Wine"_

"Someone knows how to party," I quip.

You glance up at me startled and put the newspaper down on the table beside you. Leaning against the arm rest with your head balanced on your hand, you finally huff out a greeting. "Hey."

I can tell by your color and the state of your hair that you still don't feel good. "Rough day?"

"The roughest."

"Like college graduation rough?" I ask with a wince.

You purse your mouth for a second as if you're considering it. "Well, I didn't have to sit down in an auditorium full of standing people reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and squeeze your hand so I didn't throw up in my purse, but I _did_ almost barf on my boss."

Your boss is the scariest lady alive. "Oh shit, really?"

"Really." You shake your head lightly but keep it resting against your hand. "Edward, it was so bad. I started to sweat and then my mouth started watering…..you know like when you're two seconds out from losing that shot you just took and you know you've got to get to a trash can fast. Then my stomach lurched and I tasted it in my mouth. I thought it was all over, that I was seriously about to spew all over my desk and watch it spray into Miranda's perfectly coiffed hair. Lucky for me, she was so caught up in listening to herself talk that she didn't even notice my misery and I was able to swallow it down with a sip of Coke to get the taste out of my mouth and avert disaster."

"I even managed to get her out of my office by wiping my nose…it's like the universal sign of the plague for germaphobes like her.

I'm not really listening by the time you finish. I'm still stuck on your second to last comment. It's the in I've been looking for.

"Sounds like it was a close call. " I clear my throat. "So how many did you have today?

"How many what?"

I can't tell if you're genuinely confused or not, but either way I'm not letting up. I'm so close to winning, I can almost taste the victory.

"Come on, Bell. How many cokes. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

You sniff defiantly. "One."

"One. You had one. I don't think I believe you. Try again."

"I don't care if you believe me or not. I had one Coke, Edward."

I raise my eyebrows at you.

"Oh my God, I had one. One, okay. And then Rose asked me to split another with her, so like the gracious and caring co-worker that I am, I did it. Are you satisfied?"

"So what you're telling me is that you cheated."

We make little bets with each other all the time. Your ideas are usually ridiculous. Mine are usually in the name of helping you be just a tad healthier or more hydrated, which was the object of this challenge.

"Cheated? Oh come on, I did not cheat."

"Um, sure you did. Our agreement was that for the week- you would only have one Coke a day and in turn, I would post at least one daily selfie on the social media site of my choosing. As embarrassing as it was, I fulfilled my part. You didn't."

"Jesus Christ, give me a break. I was hungover all day- which was totally your fault, I almost threw up on my boss, _and_ I have a broken heart. You can't expect a brokenhearted, hungover person to stick to some dumbass one Coke a day rule. That's, that's…its inhumane is what it is."

I may have….participated in getting you drunk off your ass last night, but still. "Fair is fair."

You mumble under your breath but don't protest anymore.

"So what's it going to be? My cousin's dry wedding in Sequim next month or my step-granddad's birthday party this weekend?"

.

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

You're lying on the couch playing with your phone when I come home the next afternoon. You must've left early because you've already taken your nighttime uniform of a giant worn-out T-shirt of mine, sleep pants, and huge socks to the next level and you're stuffed inside this blue hooded fleece onesie thing known to the QVC crowd as a forever lazy.

My stupid brother, a notorious drunk infomercial shopper, gave it to you for Christmas a few years ago. He says he's getting you a blankie tail this year, which considering your love of all things mermaid is so perfect I'm kind of jealous. There's no way I can top that.

I set down my work stuff and loosen my tie.

It's fucking hot outside, but winter has definitely come to our apartment.

You still haven't acknowledged my presence after I've gotten a beer from the fridge and taken a swig.

"Bella?" I say, trying to get your attention.

"Yeah," you respond, distracted. You're totally on facebook….I can always tell. Your mouth hangs open slightly and you get this glazed look in your eyes and nothing short of a natural disaster can sidetrack you from your stalking.

"Quit it," I say.

"Quit what?" you ask as your finger continues to swipe across your phone screen. You're still not paying attention to me.

"Stalking," I answer. "That douche is not worth stalking."

Your eyes never leave your screen but I do at least get some reaction when you screw up your mouth in disgust at my accusation. "Geez, Edward, I'm not stalking. I'm trying to figure out which dog breed I am. Lay off."

"Huh?

"Yeah and my results say I'm a Chihuahua. Can you believe that?" Your eyes dart over to mine searching for mutual shock I suppose. "Total bullshit. If anything, I'm a loveable golden retriever or, oh oh, an elegant Irish setter."

I press my lips together, trying to hold it in, but I can't help the snort that escapes at your logic. Only you.

"Definitely," I agree in an effort to appease you.

"And why would I be stalking _Tyler_? That whole thing was soooo not a big deal," you say like I'm stupid for thinking you were _ever_ upset over him.

My eyes almost bug out of my head at your total about-face. "Really? That's good….'cause I could've sworn that like 48 hours ago you were crying into your drink about how you were going to be alone forever after the demise of your _epic_ …..I'll be generous and say month long relationship."

"Shut up."

"You gonna make me, abominable snowman?" I swear with all the layers you've got on I'm going to have to roll you off the couch next time you need to get up.

You stick out your tongue at me and keep scrolling on Facebook…..probably taking another stupid quiz.

"That's not very ladylike, Ms. Swan," I say as I sit next to you on the couch and pull your feet into my lap.

"And?"

" _And_ I don't think I can take anything less than a lady to see my family at either of the two illustrious events to which I've so graciously invited you. After all, wasn't it you chastising me just a few nights ago about how Lauren the bartender was not the take home to your mother type?"

You look up at me and actually put your phone down. I think you're about to either lay into me or say something profound until I realize you just need to adjust the pillows you're propped on while you respond.

"Whatev, first off, invite? I think we both know I'm going under duress. I mean I love your fam and all, but I avoid these big family functions with you for a reason and you know why." I do know why. It's the reason I wish I could avoid them, too, and the reason I want you with me. "And anyway, I don't count as a girl you're "taking home"…. we've been friends so long and you're so….well, you….that no one would ever believe us if we said we were together-together."

I hate when you remind me how very nonthreatening and friend-zoned I am to you. It's depressing. And besides, I think you're wrong.

"Wanna bet."

* * *

A/N

I have a forever lazy, my dog has her own snuggie, and I'm working on the blankie tail because they are just the coolest.

Also, according to FB, I'm a pug.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait….." You pause and sit up to look at me. "Edward," you say my name slowly like I'm stupid, "do you think Joey belongs with _Dawson_?" You pronounce his name with such incredulous disgust and I'm honestly confused.

"Well, I mean, it's his creek, right? So…" It seems like a foregone conclusion to me.

You flop back on your bed in exasperation. "I'm worried about the future of our best friendship."

"You're worried about the future of our friendship based on me thinking that Dawson and Joey are…. soulmates or whatever versus Pacey and Joey?"

How are we here _again_? How are we in your bed with a tub of ice cream debating the relationship of characters in a bad teeny bopper soap opera _again_?

"Soulmates? That's different. I can work with soulmates. As long as you acknowledge that she belongs with Pacey."

I'm so confused. "But how can she belong with a dude that's not her soulmate?"

" _Because Edward_ , a soulmate can be a friend, too." How you can be so condescending about this discussion is just beyond me. You do realize we're not talking about real life, right?

Maybe I'm wrong. I'm not much of a romantic guy. In fact, I'm not even sure I believe in the whole soulmate thing, but I'm pretty sure if I did, I would think that soulmates should end up together….you know, be all in love and stuff.

"If you say so…..I mean you're the love expert, right?" I tease.

You narrow your eyes at me. "That was a low blow."

You don't say anything for a bit and I start to think you might really be pissed at me….but, of course, before I can blink, you rebound.

"You know you should be nice to me. As the person who consistently fields the 'Is Edward gay?' questions from your friends and family. You want me on your side."

"What?!" I squeak. "Who?"

You look at me like you're surprised that I'm surprised by this. "You never have girlfriends. What do you expect people to think?"

"That I haven't found the one yet? That I'm having fun playing the field? That I'm selective? Jesus, I'm 25. I don't know," I rant. "Not that I'm gay. I mean I'm _very_ masculine."

Your bark of laughter stops my rant. "Oh Edward."

Even though I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like it, I stare at you waiting for you to continue.

"Edward," you began, taking both of my hands in yours. "You are many things, many wonderful things, but macho is just not one of them. I think Emmett may have the market cornered on that attribute in your family.

I drop your hands. "What are you talking about? I'm manly."

The skeptical, disbelieving look on your face is thoroughly irritating.

"What is your deal? I am. I love sports….except baseball because it's boring, beer, women, food, I'm tall, I have a hair on my chest-"

"Your best friend is a girl, you take longer to get ready to go out than I do, you're oddly opinionated about home décor-"

"Trump card," I announce. "I have a _huge_ dick. Just ask your friend, Jessica. How's that-"

"OMG," you scream, pulling the comforter over your head. "I did not need to know that. I just didn't. Not ever."

After a moment or two, you pop your head out from under the covers and give this 'tell-me-it's-not-true' look. "Jessica?! Eewwwwwwwwww…."

I try to look back at you like it's no big deal…..that you're totally exaggerating. You're not. "Gimme a break. It was once and in college and I was drunk."

"None of those are good excuses. She is my friend and she's a nice girl, but Edward, how could you? She used to call blow jobs party favors. She was the campus bicycle. I'm pretty sure your entire fraternity house had a ride by the end of freshman year."

The wince I've been holding back comes through at what you're saying because, well, you're right.

"If it makes you feel better, I only got a party favor."

You're slightly mollified at my confession and I regain my footing. "And anyway, that was a zillion years ago. I only brought it up because you were attacking my manliness."

"For the record, a large, um, endowment and one blow job do not a straight man make."

I fall back on my pillow and throw an arm over my face. "Shut up. I drew a blank, okay?"

You don't respond but your taunting little 'hmph' is infuriating so I turn away from you onto my side, pouting. "Leave me alone. I'll just be over here thinking up ways to prove what a man I am." I pause for a minute pretending to ponder my options. "Obviously, my personal hygiene routine will have to take a hit and I'll have to shun my perfectly normal love of antiques in favor of bar signs and posters of naked chicks, but first things first, I gotta upgrade Jasper to bff status."

I don't have to see your face to know you're rolling your eyes.

"Gah, I was just kidding," you say as you hug me from behind, laying your chin on my shoulder. Ironically, my manhood, under fire as of late, starts to stiffen at the feeling of your boobs pressed against my back and then you kiss my cheek way too close to my ear making it worse.

"You're so strong and tough," you say in your best gushing girly voice. "What would I do without you here to open the pickle jar…reach the top shelf…eat my leftovers?"

Like that ever happens. "Psssssh…."

"Shush. I like my food. Sue me." You tap the side of my face to try to get me to look at you. When that doesn't work you poke my nose, pinch my nipples, and finally start to tickle me.

I attempt to stay stoic and unaffected, but I'm wiggling like crazy before long.

"Are you going to quit the pouting now? Huh? Huh? And stop joking about replacing me. You're _my_ best friend, my man-panion. Jasper can't have you."

At that, I turn over and face you, completely traumatized. "You did not just refer to me as your 'man-panion'. Are you trying to completely emasculate me?"

"Of course not," you reply, putting your hands on my cheeks and squishing the horrified look away.

Your expression softens and you slide your arms around my neck and hug me. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I would never want to do that. You're more important to me than anyone else in the whole wide world."

I relish your mushiness because it so rarely happens and hug you back.

"Man-panion is just my new favorite word and I reallllyyyy wanted to use it in a sentence today. It wasn't meant as a hit against you."

You move back from our embrace to look up at me with a big teasing smile on your face.

"I'm not letting you off the hook that easy, Swan," I say as I pinch your side and then pop you on the ass. "And you know what? I can't think of a better opportunity to dispel all these ugly rumors about my manly prowess than this weekend when my new girlfriend, Bella, accompanies me to my grandad's 85th birthday party."

.

.

" **It's his creek right?" –totally my husband's logic for why Joey should end up with *shutter* Dawson.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

You're a bit of a procrastinator.

So when you told me you were choosing to go to my grandad's birthday party, the event that was happening in only a few days, I have to say I was a little surprised.

I mean, of course, I'm glad you're going with me. It's just that deep down I was reaaaallllyyyy hoping for some company at what I'm sure is going to be the most dreadfully boring wedding of all time, but alas I suppose I'll have to tough it out solo with the always sober, the unfailingly self-righteous, the...wait for it... Sullen Cullens. That's right…the wedding involves my dad's side of the family and they don't do fun. Like ever.

My step-granddad, better known as Grumps, belongs to my mom. Her parents are divorced so I have another grandfather on her side, too- my Pops. He's the fun one. Grumps is well….grumpy, but in a loveable way.

I grab your hand as we near the front door and link our fingers.

You roll your eyes at my suggestive expression so sure that this is one bet you can't lose.

Hmph. We'll see about that.

As soon as we walk into the foyer you're accosted by my mother, who adores you.

"Bella! So lovely to see you, dear," she says as she pulls you away from me for a hug with one hand, a glass of chardonnay in her other.

"I've missed you," you say, returning her hug. "I'm so glad your book tour is over!"

"You and me both," she groans. "I've had enough of traveling for a while. You would not believe some of the accommodations Diane booked us." My mom is a huge hotel snob, huge. "I swear I've told her time and again how I feel about a basic room service menu. Uninspired bar food? Really? Or even worse -no valet parking. The one we stayed in in Milwaukee was practically a _mo-tel_."

As Mom rants about her traveling problems, I have to give her some crap. I mean the woman hasn't even acknowledged my presence. "Hey mom. Great to see you, too, mom. Yeah, I know, it's been _months_ since you've seen your baby boy."

"Oh Edward, listen to you carry on," she says, moving around Bella to get to me. "How's my precious? Did you miss mommy?" she grabs my face as she teases me and moves in for a big kiss on the cheek. "Mmmm-mmah."

"And don't be so dramatic. I talked to you every day I was gone."

I smile sheepishly because it's true. I'm a mama's boy. What can I say?

"Now go join the birthday boy in the den," she says as she ushers Bella towards the kitchen. I assume that's where all the ladies are congregating as I can hear the sounds of pans banging around along with my Aunt Sarah's unmistakable laugh through the door. "The guys are all watching the game."

I nod my head at my mom in compliance and decide to test the waters a little further since no one noticed us holding hands earlier. I snake my arm around your waist and give you a kiss on the temple. "Bring me a drink?"

It's not a very bold move but for the sake of believability, I've decided to start small. We left the terms of our bet pretty loose, so I have a lot of leeway. I think you think I don't have the balls to go very far…at least without laughing, but you have no idea how quickly I'm prepared to escalate the PDA should the situation call for it.

After a discrete pat to my hand to indicate you will, you follow my mom, who seems completely unmoved by my little show of affection.

.

Less than ten minutes later, people begin to move out of the kitchen and into the den singing happy birthday with my Nana and a huge cake at the head.

You pass me a drink as Grumps frowns at his cake and all the singing.

I go to take a sip without looking, but stop when I get a whiff of it before it hits my mouth.

I'd know that smell anywhere.

Wine spritzers.

Well, the Bella and Edward version, anyway.

I have to say I'm a bit taken aback by this decision. Spritzers are generally saved for only the most dire of circumstances. Born on a particularly hot July day at a wedding reception that had run out of cold beer, but had plenty of ice, Sprite and unchilled red wine, a spritzer's basic function is to get you giddy-wine-drunk quickly. As long as you get them nice and cold, they go down like water.

Your choice brings about a twofold question. 1. Why are we in a hurry to get wine drunk on a Sunday afternoon? And 2.) Did my grandparents run out of liquor?

The answer to the second question is simple and finite-Impossible.

The answer to the first becomes very clear as I watch more people spill out of the kitchen doorway just as Grumps is about to blow out his candle.

Fuck me sideways.

Mom promised.

.

.

.


	7. Chapter 7

The reason that you avoid my big family functions and I wish I could is staring right at me.

Alice.

Motherfucking Alice

She's my mom's brother's miserable stepdaughter.

Since Grumps is not even her stepfather's biological father, she doesn't always feel obligated to make it to such events. In fact, we are, on occasion, spared her awful, soul-sucking presence…..unfortunately, today is not one of those beautiful days.

To make matters worse, my mom, or Esme as we'll be calling her from here on out, swore up and down that Alice had a conflict and wouldn't be here. Her guilty expression tells me she is a bigger sellout than John Mayer.

And why is what I want to know? It's not like I would've skipped the old man's party. 85 is a big birthday and even if he is a little on the cantankerous side, Grumps and I are pretty tight. It just would've been nice to have time to prepare myself and to tell you so at least one of us could've avoided this drama.

I feel your hand slide around me and begin to rub my back.

"Drink up," you whisper.

You then go to town on the cutesy paper straw sticking out of your cup and I follow suit.

At least I can tell by your actions that you don't think I knew and didn't tell you.

That would've been bad. Really bad.

As I guzzle my drink like a 16 year old at spring break, I think back to the days when we were all friends….

We all started U Dub the same year and as people tend to do when they get out in the big, scary world of college, we clung to the few people we knew. You, Jasper, and I all went to high school together and Alice was my cousin. She and I had never been particularly close, having not spent much time together ever, but my mother had made me promise to be nice to her.

I had no idea I was bringing Satan's handmaiden into our crew.

At first, the materialism, multiple boyfriends, and snobby behavior were sort of funny and she was funny. We made fun of her for her expensive jeans and dating shenanigans and she called us peasants while she ran her perfectly manicured fingers through her hair extensions and batted her specially cut fake eyelashes.

But then the lying started and a clusterfuck of epic proportions ensued.

My thoughts are interrupted by everyone clapping for Grumps, who has successfully blown out his one candle.

You tug on my shirt and I bend down so you can reach me. "I got away with not talking to her in the kitchen, but I felt her staring at me the whole time. She's just waiting for her moment."

I had no doubt. Alice loves to be the center of attention…to make a big splash. And she delights in making others uncomfortable.

.

Esme makes her way over to us as Nana passes out pieces of cake and everyone takes their turn congratulating Grumps on 85 years.

"You are a lying liar who lies," I accuse under my breath, trying to keep my volume down so I don't make a scene.

"I'm sorry, honey. I really didn't know until yesterday and by then, you'd already told me that both you and Bella were coming and I didn't want to mess that up."

"You should've told me. You know -"

"Edward, don't you think-," she begins reproachfully, but my side eye stops her midsentence.

I _know_ she wasn't about to suggest that it was time we let bygones be bygones. My grudge against Alice was….forever. Family or not. Her manipulations had caused the only real fight Bella and I had ever had. We didn't speak for a month. It was the worst month of my life.

"Okay, okay," she sighs in defeat. "I'm going to rescue your father before your Nana talks him into a 2nd piece of cake. At least go….mingle and try not to be obvious."

You smile at my mom and give her a wink. "Don't worry Esme, we got this."

Considering your feelings towards Alice are way more violent than mine, I'm kind of annoyed that you've succeeded at looking like the rational one.

That annoyance quickly fades when you snuggle up under my arm and rest your head against my chest.

I'm pleased because I love to touch you, to be affectionate with you, but given our little wager, I'm surprised you're helping me this much. I assumed I would have to initiate everything.

I glance down at you trying to catch your expression…to get some idea of where your head's at, but you're focus is straight ahead.

On Alice.

Making her way over to us.

Ugh.

As she steps around Nana, you slide your hand from my waist into my back pocket and squeeze my ass.

It's a miracle I don't yell "A-ha!" out loud...because all the sudden I get it. Your unexpected little grope flipped the light switch on. I'm picking up what you're putting down.

You _want_ Alice to think we're a couple.

I can't help the smug smile that spreads over my face.

Who would've thought opportunity would knock and answer to the name Alice?

.

.

.


End file.
